It's a Mahogany World
by peace and joyce
Summary: The autobiography of the inimitable Effie Trinket.
1. Foreword by the Author

Well, there you have it ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, the most celebrated book since Katniss Everdeen's memoirs, as long-awaited as the downfall of President Snow and his tyrannical regime, the Hunger Games, blah blah see Mockingjay for more details.

Anyway, back to me.

Over my fascinatingly heart-stopping career I have been asked many many questions on an almost daily basis: questions like, "do you ever look in the mirror in the morning?" (I do actually I have four) and "how did your passion for mahogany start?" (Now isn't that fascinating, darlings!) And, "what is your relationship with Katniss Everdeen?" (Oh, don't ask darlings, it's a long story.) Also, "What is your relationship with Haymitch Abernathy?" (DON'T ASK. But for entirely different reasons. At least not until I've had a stiff gin- and not one from Haymitch's bottle either, he spits in it to make sure I don't. Trust me, I learned the hard way. ) And the real clincher, "just how old are you?"

So, over the course of this I will divulge some answers, (except to the last one. Because that's classified Capitol information.) Haymitch (see above) asked me, when I told him of my conviction that I was destined to write about me, he asked "Why?" So I'll tell you. Actually, to put it in full, he said "Why? Just why? Why would you do such a thing?"

Master of wit, Haymitch Abernathy.

Naturally, the world has been _dying _to hear my side of the story (who wouldn't?) and perhaps, well, I've been eager to tell it. And also, I receive the questions so many times per day that, due to my calculations (only District 13 has been more organized than I!) I spend far too much time answering questions and not enough time powdering my wig, my nose and my powder.

So, on with the show!

Effie xoxoxoxo


	2. Chapter 1

Well, darlings, as they say let's start at the beginning. I know you're dying to hear my thoughts on my fantastic Career as a Hunger Games companion; but first things first.

I was born Effina Mari Trinkerton (I later adopted Effie Trinket as a stage name) on the east side of the Capitol. Never had my neighbourhood seen a more stylish infant. Even my nappies were monogrammed with my initials.

One particularly famous urban legend tells of my discovery of my passion for mahogany .

As with all good Capitol children, my parents bought multiple cribs and cots before I was even born. There is a tradition, that the baby be placed in each cot one by one, and the one which the baby likes best is the one that they will keep. I can't remember the origins of this tradition; some say that it was around before the Dark Days; others say that it was invented by the bed-makers to sell more furniture. Obviously the first one is more likely.

And of course, baby Effie liked the mahogany one best! It was dark, fine mahogany all the way from District 7. With hand-carved sides and my toy baby mobile had my name carved in fine dark mahogany letters. That was a special day in the Trinkerton household, and warranted with 27 photographs, 26 of which feature yours truly.

And from there, the greatness began...


	3. Chapter 2

My first day at school... a historic occasion!

Maybe not. After all, it wasn't all that long ago.

As like many children, I felt very self-conscious. However, I compensated for this by making an even bigger impression on people. For example, I discovered that I was the shortest in my class, so as usual fashion came to my aid. Before long, my hair was the largest in the school. But of course, fame is a double-edged sword. Nobody wanted to sit in front of me.

But of course, I made my mark in numerous ways. The teachers refer to vivid pink as "Effie pink" after all this time. Though really, it's not that long!

I picked up numerous skills at school- and awards too. I won countless times the Best Dressed Award, the Precocious Speaking Award and I was the first ever winner of the Mahogany Appreciation Award! (Which I helped to create.) Don't even get me started on Fancy Dress Day!

My record of being able to retain perfect posture while balancing 1 encyclopaedia, 3 dictionaries, 2 packs of Pringles and 1 apple (and nobody in my class wanted to eat) on my head remains unbroken. President Snow himself gave me the trophy! Although actually being on first name terms with him doesn't mean much these days. Probably to do with the fact that he has been revealed as a murdering psychopath.

All too soon (though not soon enough, for some people who knew me then) school was coming to an end, and now it was time for me to make my way through university and into the big wide world...


	4. Chapter 3

Time in school passed oh so quickly and before not long at all, I was a fully grown, mature (shut up Haymitch, shut up!) adult and was ready to make my way into the dangerous quagmire of employment in the Capitol.

In the hierarchy that was the workplace, the status of your family is everything. On the say so of your family, you can be placed anywhere, without any credentials at all. But the Trinkertons were not all that famous before my time so all I could get was a job at...

Dunkin' Donuts.

Yes. You read that right. Effie Trinket, who won prizes for decorum and good posture, who was born to be a Career's escort, at least, could only get a job in Dunkin' Donuts, working behind the counter. I wasn't even allowed to wear heels, and my weekly salary was not enough even for a tube of hair dye. Were I to follow this path, it would be the greatest struggle for survival that the world had ever known.

And all my co-workers were Avoxes. I mean, what does that say? So, obviously, I shunned the mundane and began a long, hard road to get the top of the District escorts list. Or at least reach the bottom.

Because after all, Dunkin' Donuts office parties were very quiet.

Becoming an escort isn't easy. To get the qualification, stringent aptitude tests are applied. I would have to walk an obstacle course with a helmet weighing half my body weight on my head, and then recite a two hour long poem with perfect diction, then copy out 30 pages of text with perfect handwriting. You must then coach a tribute in walking, talking and acting like a would-be victor. (They give you a mannequin.)

And then you are interviewed. And shortlisted. And called back for more interviews. And then they review your application. And then they discuss you. And then, if you're lucky, you get a screen test. Then the whole process begins again. If you are lucky again, you are selected. There are 12 slots as escort, but each time a slot is open, there are approximately 7,000 applicants.

I worked. I trained. I prayed. I was disappointed.

I went through over 40 interviews, over 3 years. 3 years without income, in order to risk it and get the job I wanted so badly.

I was accepted. District Eight, perhaps not the Career District I wanted, but hey- what district was I better suited than the fashion district?

I was chosen. They said I was fantastic, the next big thing. But, two weeks before the Reaping, I was dropped, for a girl much younger, much prettier (huh. Surgically altered) whose father ran one of the biggest fashion companies in 8.

Then followed two more years, until luck gave me a last chance. The escort of District 12, famous for being Haymitch Abernathy's drinking partner, had suddenly died of alcohol poisoning and had left the position vacant.

And so, I was headhunted to District Twelve. To the bottom of the District escort list.


	5. Chapter 4

A friend once asked me "What's your relationship with Haymitch Abernathy?" And I told the truth. It's like Romeo and Juliet. Without the love.

Now, to be completely honest and fair in this memoir, Haymitch will be typing for me. If he has complaints I will be listening to them. Even if he is a grumpy sot who should be pleased that I put up with his-

_(Hey! I'm not writing any more of this! –H.)_

_(Shut up and keep typing! –E.)_

Well, naturally it would always be tense. My predecessor was Haymitch's drinking partner and they spent more time in hysterical inebriation than actual conversation, so his social skills were a little, um, unpolished to say the least.

His first words were somewhat unencouraging. Most cultures prefer good morning, but Haymitch will please himself so I got "They have brought me a clown!" instead. This was rather unfortunate, as one colour outfits were in fashion. (Didn't last long.)

Little did I know, but Haymitch would become a central part of my life. I hate to admit it (in fact I almost wouldn't) but he and I are somewhat alike. Both of us fought with tenacity to get where we were, him in the arena, and me in the Capitol (and really what's the difference sometimes?)

We worked together for several years before we ever really bonded. Each year, I got more and more frustrated and upset. Each year, Haymitch got more and more drunk.

But that all changed when we met our stars, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark.

And so, after years of diving and near drowning, we had found our pearls.


	6. Chapter 5

Well, it was that fateful day as it is every year when I call the names for the District 12 reaping; when I have my thirty seconds of fame and speak the two most important names in the District. The most important sentences I say every year; where my diction is put to the test, because there are no retakes on this thing and if anybody mishears the name and comes up when really they don't need (as has happened with previous escorts not as- ah hem, professional as me) then that's not good.

I'm not entirely sure what drew me to the one paper on which was written "Primrose Everdeen". Perhaps fate. Maybe divine intervention that had finally got its act together after 74 years and at last got round to utilising me to bring down the Capitol through an incredibly unforeseen plan.

Or maybe I just pulled out the first envelope that came to my hand. But what kind of a plot twist would _that _be?

Quite a tricky name to pronounce, Primrose Everdeen. Lots of articulate sounds.

So I read out the name, and there was a shout somewhere in the 16 year olds section. What's wrong? I remember thinking. I surely didn't get it wrong. I didn't even drop the n in Everdeen and that was quite an achievement!

But no. It was a volunteer.

When I first Katniss Everdeen, my heart literally stopped. Firstly, because it was a volunteer. Secondly, she had a spot on her nose.

Deep down, I had a sense that this was the person who would change Panem forever.

Very deep down.

Very very deep down.

Almost-unnoticeably deep down.

If I say so myself, Haymitch didn't make the best of impressions. I mean- _spunk?_ What kind of a word is that? And vomiting in front of them- words fail me.

I have to say though; the two did scrub up well. And thank goodness their mothers taught me the proper use of a knife and a fork. The year previously, the girl tribute asked me the use of a fork and I said "What do you think?" And would you believe it? She started cleaning her nails with it!

She was actually good fun, that girl.

Katniss did irritate me sometimes; she was always a very sort of cheeky irreverent sort. Nothing wrong with that, but then at the time I did get frustrated. I _knew_ she had it in her. I knew she really had good manners deep down and was a pearl. She just needed a polish.

And a blooming thorough one too.

All was going well; in fact I was hopeful about their training scores. Until eight words (almost) destroyed everything.

"I shot an arrow at the Gamemakers' heads."

Now, I didn't see any footage of the evaluation but when somebody says they even so much as held a weapon up facing the Gamemakers that spells bad. And I was genuinely worried about Katniss. Not to mention having an argument with the Gamemakers is not a private issue. The Capitol knows everything in minutes.

And when I saw a score of 11, I knew it was just the start of a long story.


	7. Chapter 6

**AN: Sorry for the huge gap between updates. I find this quite hard to write without having the text next to me for reference, and my friend borrowed the book for about a millennium. So there we are. Effie's back!**

I have to say, when it comes to Katniss' fantabulous interview, it was a team effort; I can't claim all the credit. Katniss was her- lovely- no brilliant- Katniss was herself. Cinna's work was simply genius, and I'm sure my mentioning how coal turns into pearls had something to do with it. And aside from Haymitch's silly comment on my dress, he behaved surprisingly well.

And then, of course, Peeta declared his love for Katniss! That bit nearly had me in tears. The two of them are easily the best tributes I have ever worked with. I felt something a little bit like sadness when I remembered that only one of them would get to come back. The more I thought about it, the more it seemed a bit unfair that the two of them would have to go up against each other in the arena. But then, it was the Hunger Games, and as merely a humble Escort (though my judgement is sound, after all I take more care in picking good clothes than half the other Escorts) I felt I had no right to criticise the Capitol. I did work for them, after all.

I think Katniss and I have a very good working relationship. But then, when it comes to working relationships I have only really have Haymitch to compare with. And our working relationship would any other look good.

I was more than a bit concerned when I saw Peeta on the floor. If he was falling over already I wasn't sure how he'd manage in an arena filled with things to trip on.

I had to say goodbye at the pair of them and go with Haymitch to sort out getting sponsors and delivering gifts. I wished them all the best in the arena- because who knows? Maybe the next year I would be promoted!


	8. Chapter 7

The beginning hours of the 74th Hunger Games did not start smoothly. Katniss and Peeta were in terrible danger and I missed half the bloodbath because- well, I- I needed to use the bathroom facilities momentarily.

Anyway, I was so annoyed with myself! And I almost had a heart attack when I got back to the living room- and not because I missed the step and almost fell over. No, because Clove was throwing a knife at Katniss! My Katniss!

"Come on Katniss!" I shouted at the TV- something I usually don't do. (It is rather vulgar.) The good news was that my neighbours didn't hear, they were shouting at their television too.

We Capitol people get rather excited by the Hunger Games.

Thank goodness she made it out of there! With a weapon too, what a relief. Sadly she and Peeta had been separated, but I so hoped they'd live long enough to squeeze a little bit of romance in somehow. Goodness knows there has been little enough happiness to go around!

After the bloodbath, it was back to work of course! We cannot help our tributes until a couple of hours after the Games have begun, so we just sit back and watch the bloodbath so that we can fill any gaps in supplies with sponsor gifts.

Sometimes- the bad years when our tributes die in the bloodbath, we have nothing to do for the rest of the Games, but this year they both made it! Haymitch and I worked tirelessly throughout the Games to provide our tributes with sponsors. Some needed more persuading than others, but it was nothing that Trinket charm and Abernathy negotiations couldn't achieve!

I disagreed with Haymitch over supplying Katniss with water. I noticed after a day or two that our Mockingjay was looking more than a little parched and it wouldn't do for Katniss' lovely complexion to get all dried up. After all, she had to look good for the audience. But Haymitch insisted that gifts should only be given when the arena couldnt supply it. Sure enough, Katniss found water shortly after and I have to admit that on that occasion (deep breath) he was right.

The tracker jackers were awful. I was swatting at the air for hours afterwards and had the fright of my life when a buzzing sound started to emanate from my wig, but thank goodness it was only a housefly!


	9. Chapter 8

Haymitch and I have always remained steadfast supporters of the lovely Katniss and Peeta; and of course they were the only people I wanted to win the Games. Ever. I might even put an exclamation mark in there.

But I have to confess, Rue did move me. A lot. She was always adorable and she had such good manners, especially in her interview! (Allright, she did eat with her fingers in the arena, but I can forgive that. I mean, knives and forks do not often occur in the arena.)

So naturally, it was lovely that Katniss allied with her. Especially as it meant that Rue got more screen time and I could get an excuse to gush over her cuteness more often.

* * *

What an ingenious idea to blow up the food! I was on tenterhooks! I was just having a drink when it all exploded and I jumped and my drink went everywhere- including all over Haymitch, but actually funnily enough he didn't mind. I had such a bad headache from the noise that actually I had to take my wig off. I let my hair down and sort of roughly combed through it with my fingers. Usually this is a very vulgar thing to do, especially in public but I was so busy trying to relieve the pain that for once I actually wasn't thinking along those lines.

Haymitch was looking at me like I had just uttered a very very rude word. Which I never do. At least, not when I think anyone can hear me. "What is it?" I asked him, not with much patience.

"Your hair, Effie," he said, pretending to sound amazed. "It's real!"

Oh, really.

* * *

I have to admit, I absolutely went to pieces when Rue died. I had to have tissues sent up every five minutes. I didn't cry initially, obviously, because I wanted to catch every note of what Katniss was singing to her as she died but when she covered her with flowers and did that finger thing I just... lost it. After that, I was just rooting for Katniss the whole way. No offence meant, Peeta.

Oh my goodness, just thinking about it is making me tear up. I am crying as I write this. (Just for the record, Haymitch has given up on typing this for me because we have been so busy busy busy with getting sponsors and everything.) And now I'm getting the paper wet from crying about it. Haymitch! I need more paper, please! HAYMITCH!


	10. Chapter 9

I can't really remember what I felt when it was announced that two victors would be permitted. I can remember what I said; and I wish it had been more poignant and meaningful, but really it was just a vulgar exclamation something along the lines of "Yippee!"

It started something else, as well. For the first time in years- for the first time in my career, I would not have to say goodbye to my tributes. I could get them back. And then never let them go. I could have the impossible.

And if I could have the impossible in the Games, maybe the impossible could be possible in other ways as well.

No, I'm getting ahead of myself.

They were the most adorable pair! Even if they made me get through my tissues even faster. Seeing them in the arena, working together was a massive incentive to do what always plagued my mind: _get them more sponsors. _

When Haymitch decided at last to send them proper food, it was my idea to supply proper plates and cutlery. After all, we wouldn't the Capitol to be offended by messy manners. Although they did manage to stomach gore very well, surprisingly easily, I thought it was best not to risk it.

And then the two of them completely broke my subtly-hinted advice- and licked their plates. Right in front of the camera. Knowingly licking their plates at me.

Normally this would make me roll my eyes.

But then they told me they loved me. That was the nicest thing anybody has ever said to me, even if it was accompanied by a deliberate breach of etiquette. I absolutely howled with tears after that. Not because of the licking, but because it just reminded me that they were two lovely young people in what was- I'll admit it- a terrible situation.

* * *

If the run-up to the feast was hard to bear, the feast was even harder. Seeing Katniss inches from death; and Clove- beaten to death! So brutal. I was secretly finding myself getting more and more keen for the Games to end quickly, get Peet and Katniss home safely sooner.

I was touched when Thresh spared Katniss. I almost didn't want him to die- but I had to, because Katniss and Peeta needed to come back to District 12.

Haymitch and I were even more tense and anxious in the couple of days before the finale, which actually made me sad as we had gotten on surprisingly well during the rest of the Games. It seemed that when we had something in common (Peeta and Katniss' survival) we made a good team.

The most frightening part of the Games was definitely the mutts at the end. Once again, Peeta and Katniss were in danger. Once again, their survival was in peril. And once again, I jumped and my drink went everywhere.


	11. Chapter 10

I soon discovered that the downside of having both of your tributes surviving the Games for longer was the fact that it increased their chances of being forced to kill each other.

Unfortunately, I only discovered this after Claudius Templesmith announced to all Panem that my tributes- _my _tributes- would have to fight to the death after all.

I also learned how much I had changed through knowing them. When they held the berries up and showed the Capitol that they would rather die than kill each other, my first comment was not a rant on how I did not send them cutlery so that they could just continue to eat with their fingers.

Although that was my second comment.

I was worried. Very worried, I'll admit. I mean, I didn't know how much Peeta and Katniss could get away with- certainly not threatening suicide on the Gamemakers. They would just see that as rude, I had no idea how to apologize.

"Apologize?!" Haymitch was as sober as I'd ever seen him. "Woman, don't you get it? There is no apologizing! And even if we did, it wouldn't make any difference! We're all dead!"

Now that hurt. Not being called woman (though I am a _lady_) or even the fact that manners apparently wouldn't help. It was the fact that Haymitch alerted to me a danger that was very real. I realised then, in a moment of Eureka-like clarity, that there was a large chance I might actually die. I wasn't ready to die. I was only- well, age isn't really an issue. I had so much to offer the world, in so many ways, some of them not even fashion related!

And that moment when they held out the berries, my world was turned upside down and nothing was the same after that.


End file.
